Colours
by cheesypuffs
Summary: Demyx is Zexion's reason for hope. Zexion & Demyx Friendship.


Set in TWTNW without the Organization, Nobodies etc. They're just people.

**Colours**

The World That Never Was was a dreary, depressing place. Everything seemed grey. The flashes of colour that dared to appear were engulfed by the dull shade of the buildings that towered over them like giants.

Grey smoke billowed from a stumpy chimney. A child, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, nudged a grey stone across the eternally wet ground. It rained relentlessly. Day in, day out. A day without rain in The World That Never Was, was like a day without the soothing glow of the sun in Twilight Town. Even the oldest inhabitants of the world didn't remember a day without the rain; although it had apparently decided to snow once instead. But that was only a rumour.

Zexion sat on the steps leading up to his house, hood of his thin waterproof jacket shielding his hair from the torrential downpour. His younger sister had called for him to return to the house numerous times (who would she play with if her brother was sick?) He refused to. A little bit of rain never hurt anyone.

For the most part, the area seemed abandoned. He had heard some far off shouting a while ago. He didn't remember how long it had been since he last saw a car zoom past. No one had come out of any of the nearby houses either.

He was waiting for someone – namely his closest friend. At one point in his life – his only friend. Sometimes – the bane of his existence. Always – the nearest thing one could find to sunlight in The World That Never Was. Just like the rain, another constant in Zexion's life: Demyx.

The boy glanced at his digital watch. His friend was twenty-seven minutes late. This didn't bother Zexion, who shivered and sneezed in the cold. Demyx was sure to turn up – sooner or later. Their regular meeting place was Zexion's home. This way, if his friend was late by leaps and bounds, Zexion could wait in the comfort of his own home if he chose to. But Zexion hardly ever did unless the temperature was below five degrees Celsius, or the wind was strong enough to blow his hood off and rattle windows.

Surprisingly, he enjoyed the _tip tip tip _of the rain when the drops collided with his coat. He hated how cruel the water could be to his books though.

He sneezed again, looking up through squinted eyes at the bleak expanse of road before him. He tried (and failed) to catch raindrop that rolled down his nose. He blinked. Once. Twice. Yes, that was definitely a blob of bright blue bobbing towards him. Most definitely Demyx, sprinting towards his house along the grey pavement, teeth gritted and eyes closed.

Zexion rose to his feet and watched said blob in amusement, the smallest of smiles gracing his damp lips. Blond hair and a wildly swinging satchel were soon visible.

The teenager looked both ways before skipping over the final crossing. He stopped a few feet away from his friend, shaking his hair out, only causing more wet strands to cling to his face. His hands rose to his hips and he gulped in gallons of fresh air, grinning like a madman all the while. "I...I'm sorry...got caught up," he started rambling between breaths, "...with practice and-"

"S'okay," Zexion mumbled, looking away from his friend and beginning to stare at a suddenly fascinating patch of concrete near his feet. Demyx never meant to be late. Getting caught up in his music was just one of the things that made him Demyx.

The blond boy attempted (and failed) to dry his face with the wet sleeves of his blue cotton jumper. "You rock Zexion! Anyone ever told you that?"

_Yes. You. More than enough times._ He thought this, but was still acting distracted.

"Zexion?"

"..."

"Zex."

"..."

"Zexy!"

No answer.

Demyx chuckled and took steps forward until he was standing close to the other boy. He pushed Zexion's hood back with one hand and ruffled his hair with the other, shocking him back to reality. Zexion's surprised expression made Demyx chuckle again.

He took a step back again and reached out a hand to his friend, who was standing on the bottom step. It made them almost the same height.

"Come on, Zex," he said. "I'll make it up to you. I've got something to show you."

Zexion's hair was getting damp and deflated. He looked sceptically at the upturned tanned palm, until Demyx grabbed his friend's right hand and intertwined their fingers.

"Demyx-"

"Shush. No buts. Seriously. It's really cool." Demyx quickly winked at him and swiftly turned around to jog back in the direction he came from, dragging Zexion after him all the way.

The World That Never Was was a dreary, depressing place. Searching for hope in a place such as this appeared to be a battle one could never win. But for Zexion, his ray of hope was always there when he needed him (or an hour or two later). His hope pulled him behind wherever he went. He wished his hope would always be there for him, to run hand in hand down the street with in the pouring rain.

Zexion's world of grey faded away. It had turned itself into a world of white. That world of white turned into what it was truly meant to be, a world of all colours. And it was beautiful.

* * *

_AN: Was that really boring? After I read it I thought it was really boring. I guess that might've been after I read it the tenth time, but still..._

_And on a completely different note, doesn't holding hands with a friend make you feel that little bit more loved? :)  
_


End file.
